Love me, dammit!
by BlueNavy
Summary: What happens when Riven resorts to using an underhanded tactic to secure her love? Chaos ensues, that's what. Multiple F/F pairings. AU Crackfic.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This storyline is probably somewhat cliché and overused, but eh, I thought I'd add my own to the fray. Hope you guys like it.

* * *

It was underhanded, and she probably shouldn't.

Yes, she probably, absolutely _shouldn't_. But still, one had to understand that for the past few months in Riven's life, things had been nothing but a blazestorm of sheer torment. In sum, Riven had found herself unable to focus her attention on anything, much less accomplish anything. Her recent performances on the rift had been ghastly to say the least, having been slain far too many times in matches that she was eventually slapped with a brief suspension and told to get her shit together.

If that wasn't bad enough, the sharp and sudden clenches that came and went sporadically around her chest was drastically affecting her physical and mental state. Normally she would seek out Soraka when it came to issues pertaining health, but she knew all too well that afflictions of the heart possessed no cure.

And the very source of her heartache… a certain _somebody_ whom she had quite persistently sought the attention of in recent months. Yet, try as she might, all of her attempts seemed to come up short. The person had either failed to notice her feelings or was simply choosing to ignore it, either way, it was easy to see that her love was a rather unrequited one, which brings Riven back to her current dilemma: to do it, or to not?

Looking down at the small unassuming vial clutched tight in her hand, Riven swirled the purple liquid around with a small flick of her wrist. The potion might not even work anyway, and besides, it seemed to be fairly harmless at least according to Syndra.

When Riven had finally managed to gather her courage and approach the mage about possibly employing her services, the Dark Sovereign had coughed out a heartily wicked laugh before outright declaring that there was no such thing in life as a _love potion_ , and even if there were, Riven would be the last person she'd help. However, upon hearing the desperate pleas of the Exile as well as learning the object of Riven's desires—ultimately who the recipient of said love potion would be—Syndra had mysteriously decided to change her tune. It was uncanny the way the girl's ears had perked up, but Riven tried not to dwell on that too much since there was no point looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Having agreed to lend her assistance, Syndra then went on to explain that, yes, her previous assertion hadn't exactly been untrue. While there were no magical potions or enhancements in all of Runeterra (at least not that Syndra knew of) that could make someone _fall in love_ per se, there were however, certain elixirs that could be mixed to cause a person to pay more attention and be more aware of another's presence. In short, evoking outright feelings of passionate love was impossible but subtle suggestions, not so much.

And that was all Riven wanted in the first place anyway, to somehow be noticed. She reckoned that the new development made administrating the potion slightly less evil since she wouldn't exactly be _forcing_ someone to love her, just merely _placing subtle suggestions_ in their head to glance her way. That seemed harmless enough… right? Glancing back at the vial of purple liquid in her hands, Riven made up her mind.

* * *

The way the potion needed to be administered, it was strange; Riven even had to double-triple-check with Syndra just to make sure she'd heard it right, much to the other girl's ire.

 _"Yes. How many times must I say it? Do you have a peanut for a brain?" Syndra rolled her eyes dramatically. "It's really not that hard. You drink the purple thing and in exactly 10 minutes, you would be seized by a wet sneeze. Make sure you direct your sneeze at your intended target, and the mucus would be instantly and magically absorbed into their bloodstream. Just one small droplet would be enough to take effect. Anyway, it's for one use only, so make sure you don't waste it sneezing into blank space."_

 _Sounds simple enough_ , Riven reminded herself with a deep breath. _Sneeze at target, just sneeze at target. Alright, now all I have to do is find her_. _Where will she be? It's seven in the morning so, knowing her, probably the training grounds_.

Hastening her strides, Riven quickly made her way to the open-air courtyard that many champions went to hone their skills in combat. The compound was large and still fairly deserted at that hour since most members of the League were late risers. Circular targets lined one end of the court, while wooden dummies lined another. It was near one of these wooden dummies that Riven caught sight of her beloved.

It seemed the girl was not in the midst of her usual combat sessions but was instead sitting cross-legged on the ground with her hands on her knees in a deep meditative state. Seeing the silk strands of her hair sway ever so gently in the morning breeze and the way her face looked so unguarded in a perfect picture of peace, Riven felt her pulse sped up involuntarily.

Hastily, she downed the vial of liquid held in her hands and gingerly approached the meditating girl from behind, coming to a stop just a few feet away. She silently prayed that the girl would be so deeply immersed in her meditative trance that she would not come to notice her presence. No such luck. The girl's enchanted blades had sprung to life at the sound of her footsteps and were now hovering around the Will of the Blades in a defensive formation.

"Exile," Irelia's voice carried a touch of wariness, but she still hadn't moved an inch. "What is your business with me?"

In her eagerness, Riven had neglected to come up with a reasonable explanation for why she had chosen to seek out the Ionian. And it was fairly obvious she was seeking her out too, there was simply no other reason to be standing in such close proximity, especially when there were so few people around.

"I—uh, I—uh," Riven inwardly facepalmed. "I—uh." She tried again, and failed. "I—uh," _Shit! Get it together!_ "I—uh, was just wondering what you were up to." It was very lame, but at this point Riven was just relieved she was capable of words other than 'I—uh'.

Irelia didn't reply, although Riven noticed her blades twitching slightly. A whole minute went by with neither of them moving or saying anything. The mood was decidedly awkward when Irelia abruptly stood up and brushed the dirt off her black Ionian styled silk pants before turning to face Riven.

"I think it is fairly obvious that I was meditating, Exile. I do not take kindly to being interrupted." Her tone was harsh and stony, sending a barrage of little figurative steel spikes straight through Riven's broken heart.

"I—uh—"

"Yes, I _know_. You've said that about six times now. If you'll excuse me." Irelia gave a curt nod before brushing past Riven, making to exit the compound.

 _Oh my god. That was so bad. She hates me, she hates me now. But I like her so much. She smelled nice—Wait, what did I do? Shit! I can't let her go yet. If my counting is right, there's still around 6 minutes before the wet sneeze comes about. I need her to be here when that happens!_

Riven's mind raced with an abundance of thoughts, sending her into overdrive. Without thinking, her hand shot forward and grabbed the upper right arm of the Ionian Captain. The arm was more petite than she had imagined, and for a brief moment, Riven reveled in the feel of the seemingly delicate, but firm appendage.

"Wh-h—unhand me." Irelia was caught off guard as she faltered for a second before attempting to jerk her arm away indignantly, her blades now changing to adopt a more dangerous stance around her. Without warning, her left palm lashed out, swiftly striking Riven in the chest and effectively shoving her back a few steps. Coughing, Riven was just about to apologize for her rudeness but a loud commotion a distance away, drew her attention.

"Give it back!" It was Leona who was shouting angrily while in the midst of chasing someone around the court.

"Hahahaha," An all too familiar laughter rang out in the air as its owner skidded to a stop a few feet away and gave a taunting gesture with her left hand while raising her right hand up high, fingers waving around a thin sheet of paper. "I just wanted to take a closer look _Sunshine_ , what do you have to be so mad about?"

Leona audibly growled and made a lunge at the mischievous red head, but the assassin was too fast for her and was already dancing her way out of Leona's grasp before disappearing in a mist of red that marked her Shunpo. To both Riven and Irelia's shock, Katarina proceeded to materialize right in front of them.

"Oops, I miscalculated." The redhead muttered under her breath. Riven and Irelia were barely given enough time to register the developments since Leona had caught sight of Katarina and, with a one-tracked mind, came barreling straight towards her target.

Riven's mind was panicked.

 _Shit. At this rate, Leona's going to crash into us like bowling pins._

With that thought, and with the charging Leona looming closer and closer, Riven did the first thing that came to her mind, and pulled Irelia protectively behind her with a sharp yank while bracing herself for impact as the female tank crashed bullishly into Katarina right in front of her.

Before the dust had even settled, a loud and infinitely wet sneeze rang out and reverberated through the area just as a thin sheet of paper, the one that Katarina was previously holding, landed gently on the ground. With its edges now slightly crumpled, the paper depicted a picture of both Leona and a certain silver-haired Lunari dressed in matching swimwear at some beach setting, leaning close together as they smiled contently into the camera.

 _Shit_.


	2. Chapter 2

_Well, that certainly was a bust_.

Riven's thoughts were miserable as her mind flashed back to the events that unfolded earlier this morning at the training grounds. She recalled pulling Irelia behind her and out of harm's way just as a charging Leona bulldozed Katarina to the ground like a wild boar. What happened next, she wasn't too entirely sure of, since her eyes were forced shut by a sneeze so colossal, it'd caused her mind to nearly black out and her vertebrae to pop in various places.

* * *

 ** _Earlier that morning_**

Cries of disgust were heard as Riven slowly peeked her eyes open, finding herself in the presence of one very shocked Leona and one very irate Katarina, both staring wide-eyed at her from the ground, their faces and bodies covered in substantial amounts of drying mucus. Her mind was still reeling, but before she could even register the implications of this newest development, an irritated growl had rang out into the air.

"Yucks. This is SO fucking gross, haven't you ever heard of covering your mouth when you sneeze, you dumbfuck?" Katarina's lips curled up in disgust as she wiped at her face with her hands.

 _Ok, it doesn't seem like her attitude towards me has changed much, she's still as scarily rude as ever. Maybe it didn't work?_ Riven hoped, prayed.

"Well, we wouldn't exactly be in this state if you had simply minded your own business." Leona snapped, clearly still angry at the stunt Katarina had pulled earlier. Eyes darting around, she wasted no time in locating the precious piece of paper that now lay crumpled in the dirt and quickly moved to grab it before anyone could do anything.

"What are you so upset about? I just wanted to take a peek, that's all. Or are you really so ashamed of your **lover**?" Katarina taunted, before smirking at the look of anger that flared across Leona's face.

"I mean, that's the reason why you guys are so secretive about it, right? Who wouldn't want to hide a girlfriend with a forehead tramp stamp?" The redhead laughed even louder, even though no one else found it funny.

"Shut it." Leona glowered before pulling herself up from the ground and drawing to her full height, just as Katarina did the same.

"Do not speak of Diana in such a way. Ever." Leona's tone was perhaps the most threatening Riven had ever heard, and a tensed moment passed between the two as they stood exchanging glares in a blatant show of intimidation before Katarina, shorter of the duo, finally shrugged and turned away.

"Whatever. I need a shower after this snot-fest." She muttered under her breath before stalking off.

Leona glared at the retreating form of the assassin, noting with no small degree of satisfaction that her gait was now marred by a slight limp, no doubt caused by the sun-warrior's charge.

"That girl needs a lesson or two in manners." Leona commented out loud to no one in particular before turning around to face the two innocent bystanders, a sheepish look on her face.

"I'm terribly sorry you two got caught up in that. It was childish of me to play into Katarina's games and I hope you both accept my sincere apologies." The Solari ran a hand carelessly through her long, tangled mane and Riven could understand how Diana would find such a simple act charming and endearing.

"It's ok, no harm came out of it anyway." Riven was quick to put the Solari at ease.

"Besides, I should be the one apologizing for that whole, you know –" She grimaced as she gestured to Leona's body, meaning to indicate the droplets of mucus, but there were no longer any traces of them.

"That's alright," Leona waved off the apology, "I have had worse, trust me."

Riven was not quite sure what that _meant_ exactly, but the redhead had flashed her a reassuring smile, "I'm just glad you guys are unharmed, although Riven, I would suggest seeing Soraka to get that cold checked out, I mean, I've never seen a sneeze quite so massive! It felt like I was literally being blown away, you could very well have given Janna a run for her money." Leona cracked up at her own joke, laughing so hard that Riven felt obliged to join in awkwardly.

Yep, Leona had definitely been spending too much time in Diana's presence; the Lunari's famously bad sense of humour had certainly rubbed off.

The two exchanged pointless pleasantries for a few more minutes before Leona finally decided it was time to get back to practice. At that, Riven was relieved, the sunshine girl was capable of talking incessantly, and Riven was finding it hard to do the same. She watched as Leona gave a parting nod and a small wave before heading back to the corner of the grounds where she was previously training. It wasn't mean-spirited, but the sight reminded her of a golden stick insect slowly crawling back into its hole in the tree.

Irelia had remained stoically silent throughout the whole dialogue, and it wasn't until Riven heard the faint sound of footsteps shuffling behind her that she was suddenly reminded of the Ionian's presence.

"Are you alright?" The question was more of a customary one since Irelia was quite clearly unscathed.

As Riven turned to face the girl, she shyly allowed her eyes to roam briskly over the Ionian's delicate features; the Captain's face was its usual mask of seriousness and betrayed no hints of emotion. This was frustrating as Riven found herself wholly incapable of deciphering the woman's thoughts. If the Captain was in any way shaken or affected by earlier events, it was not made apparent.

Letting out a small sigh, Riven attempted in a genuine tone, "Look, I'm really sorry I pulled you earlier, both for before and for when Leona was tackling Katarina down, I just want to say that-I - um..." She struggled to find the remaining words, and the Ionian decided to be gracious, "I appreciate your intentions, Exile. I recognised that I was in the path of impact. However, with regards to your other actions, I must ask that you refrain from needlessly interrupting and initiating physical contact with me in the future, I do not approve of such behaviour."

Again, Riven's mind raced to find a suitable reply for the situation, but her capabilities for speech seemed wanting lately, especially when around Irelia, so she said the only thing that came to her brain at the moment, "I'm sorry, I will keep that in mind."

Irelia regarded her for a few more seconds with those cold, steely eyes of hers before giving a curt nod and walking away stiffly with her hands behind her back, her enchanted blades following closely after.

* * *

Thinking back, the events really weren't that big of a deal, but when you like someone, every little thing they do seemed to be magnified three-folds, thus Riven couldn't help but feel a little saddened by Irelia's attitude towards her this morning.

She briefly wondered if the Captain of the Guard was always this cold to everyone, or if it was just her. The former couldn't be right, she had seen Irelia laughing and acting playful when amongst close friends such as Karma and Soraka, so it really wasn't like she was completely incapable of warm emotions. And even if Irelia was taciturn in front of strangers - if her interaction with Leona this morning was any indication - Riven still had a sneaking suspicion that her background might have a little something to do with Irelia's extra icy demeanour towards her. Yet, the fact remained that her past was not something she could actively change. The only thing she could forge was the present, and the future, which, speaking of, was looking decidedly bleak right now, all things considered.

The whole love potion thing was such a bad idea. Not only had it gone horribly wrong, but she had also completely missed her intended mark; having replayed the events over and over in her mind, Irelia was definitely way behind her when the sneeze occurred, so the enchanted mucus landing on her was near impossible. It had definitely sprayed all over Leona and Katarina though, not that _that_ was any consolation considering they were the last two people in the League Riven wanted fawning over her (assuming the potion does in fact work).

One, because Leona already had a girlfriend - as she'd discovered this morning - and said girlfriend just happened to be notorious for her dark and vengeful streak; two, because Katarina was a scarily bloodthirsty fiend, and the very thought of that sadistic blade bitch paying her any sort of attention more than necessary made Riven shudder and shrivel in absolute dread. The Sinister Blade was someone that people actively avoided drawing the attention of, never the other way around.

 _Oh my god, such a mess._ Riven inwardly moaned for what seemed to be the third time in a row. With any luck, the potion _wouldn't_ actually work, and Riven could go back to living the peaceful life of a heartbroken Exile.

* * *

"Leona? Leona, are you listening to me?" Diana's voice from across the table shook the red haired woman out of her reverie.

"Yeah.. Yeah, I am, you were talking about heading out to watch the stars next week?" Leona replied distractedly, poking at the food on her plate with a fork. The two were currently seated in the dining hall, having lunch as per their daily routine.

"Yes I was. You seemed distracted though, what's wrong?" Diana's voice was laced with concern as she eyed her lover lacklustrely shoving her food around.

"Nothing much. My day just started out badly, that's all." Leona sighed. At Diana's further probing, she went on to relay the entire story of what happened earlier this morning, from how Katarina had sneaked their picture out of her training bag, to how she had chased the assassin around before ultimately tackling her sorry ass to the ground. Finishing, she glanced up to notice that Diana was wearing a slightly amused expression, not quite the look she was expecting to see.

"Oh relax, it appears that she was probably just curious about the nature of our relationship that's all. Everyone seems to be. Maybe we should just stop sneaking around pretending to be friends, and simply come straight out already." Diana wiggled an impeccably groomed eyebrow at her lover before flashing a suggestive smile.

"Maybe." Leona returned the smile warmly, moving to place her right hand gently over Diana's left, "I know it wasn't that big of a deal, but somehow, something came over me in that instance. All I could think about was how I didn't want _Katarina's_ grubby hands all over that picture - _our_ picture - our _first_ picture together as a couple." Her voice became soft as she shied away from Diana's gaze and looked back down at her food, "I know, it sounds stupid now when I say it out loud." Diana's smile widened even more at that. Leona could be so adorably sweet sometimes. The girl was probably unaware of her effect on others, but it was exactly this unassumingly careless charm that had unknowingly set so many hearts aflutter. _Unfortunate, since her heart would only ever belong to one_ , Diana thought fiercely.

A pleasant moment passed between the two as they gazed contentedly into each other's eyes, both silently reflecting on the beauty of the other's shade. Diana wished the instance could last a little longer, but she eventually untangled her hand begrudgingly when she noticed they were starting to draw attention with their little staring match. Leona chuckled softly as they both resumed eating, revelling in the familiar comfort of each other's company.

"Hey, sweetie?" It was Leona who spoke up next.

"Yes, honey?" Diana glanced up at the painfully radiant redhead, an uncharacteristically gentle smile adorning her face.

"Have you ever, you know, thought about cutting your hair?" Leona asked in a passing manner as she took a sip of water from her cup.

"Mm. Not really, no. Why?"

"Nothing, I just thought it might look nice that's all." Leona said vaguely as her eyes slowly wandered from the food on her plate to trace after something in the background.

"You've always loved my long hair though," Diana said with a slightly amused frown, "In fact, just last week, you were telling me how much you loved the way it shimmers in the moonlight."

"Oh right, I did say that. But change is good too. Don't you think ash blonde hair like yours would look good short and pulled back –?"

"—Kind of like how Riven wears hers," Leona absently added before nodding, "I think that would look hot."

Diana's frown became just a little less amused. She was about to say something on the matter when she noticed that the Solari's full attention was no longer on her, and hadn't been for quite awhile now. Eyes narrowing, she turned around and tracked the path of Leona's gaze like a hawk, her search eventually leading her to a certain white-haired Noxian Exile.

 _Oh. So **that's** what Leona is so **intently** staring at._

Diana would like to believe that she was not the irrationally jealous type. But this, coupled with that earlier comment made by Leona, caused a small swell of fury to stab through her chest. In a voice dripping with sarcasm, she remarked, "So, I take it you think Riven's hair is _hotter than mine_?"

"Uh-huh." Leona nodded distractedly, clearly so caught up in her thoughts that she wasn't fully registering Diana's words.

"Speaking of Riven, I think I should probably go check her out once more, I mean, check her up – no, wait, check up, on her – wait, what did I say?" Leona looked very confused.

"You said _check her out_." Diana replied stonily in a clipped voice, not finding this exchange amusing in the slightest. It was such an unfamiliar feeling, how her insides were slowly seething with the rage of a boiling moon. Though Diana was no stranger to rage, this was of a different breed.

"No I didn't," Leona flashed her a funny look before slowly rising up from her seat and giving her ashened face lover a quick peck on the cheek, "be back soon sweetheart."

Situational awareness was hardly Leona's strong suit, so it was fairly easy for her not to notice that Diana's normally pretty face had bunched up in an ugly scowl.


	3. Chapter 3

_First_ , _she had the audacity to check out another girl right in front of me. Next, she actually had the gall to bring said girl back to my table._

Diana's thoughts were in very dark places as she struggled to restrain her rage by slowly twisting a spoon under the table with her bare hands.

 _Not here. Not in public. I will strangle Leona when we get back._

The thought restored a certain amount of peace to Diana, but not enough. _  
_

Across from her, Riven sat, laughing loudly at something Leona said, which only made Diana even angrier.  
 _  
Come on, it wasn't even that funny. Kiss ass much?_

Diana seethed silently through gritted teeth.

Unbeknownst to the Lunari, Riven's current mood was decidedly less than joyful. Having possessed significantly more awareness than the blissfully ignorant sun-warrior, it didn't take long for Riven to sense the mounting tension in the air as well as pick up on the waves of contempt that was practically rolling off of Leona's better half.

Loudly, almost painfully, she choked out another bout of contrived laughter in an effort to mask her awkwardness as well as to dispel the tensed atmosphere somewhat.

It didn't work.

Sneaking a quick glance across the table—it could just be Riven's imagination but—Diana's scowl had deepened.

Leona seemed to be totally oblivious about her girlfriend's current state of mind, and was instead basking gloriously in the added attention.

Riven's laughter had spurred the redhead on and she was now gesturing _even more_ enthusiastically and animatedly about something with both hands, something about proper gardening techniques: "…with sunflowers, it's all about the soil, the quality of the soil, the texture, the density, the humidity of the soil, how moist the soil is, and also the number of earthworms that inhabit a 10 by 10 square feet of soil. Fertilisation of the soil is also critical, in addition to composted manure and organic slow-release balanced fertiliser, one should consider adding an organic amendment that contains traces of minerals like dried seaweed, greensand, so on and so forth, it's really all dependent on the soil—"

 _Why am I here?_ Riven thought miserably.

Earlier at the dining hall, Riven had been buying food and just generally minding her own business when she was ambushed by the sunny Leona from seemingly out of nowhere. The Solari had chatted her up, once again apologising for previous events as well as inquiring after her health. Despite the sudden intrusion, her conduct had seemed fairly normal enough and Riven couldn't tell whether the girl's friendliness was potion-induced, or simply just Leona being her usual outgoing self. Riven hoped it was the latter.

Not being too comfortable with small talk, Riven had quickly tried to weasel her way out of the conversation after a few minutes of Leona's incessant chatter, but the Solari was having none of it. Noticing the tray of food Riven was toting in her left hand, the hospitable redhead had gestured to a table in the distance, where her girlfriend sat with her back towards them, and invited Riven to join. Not knowing what to do in situations like this, and lacking a valid excuse — the Exile usually ate alone, and thought it awful if she were to decline Leona's offers just for the Solari to see her sitting by herself at another table moments later — Riven resignedly allowed herself to be dragged to where Diana was, thus bringing her to this current predicament.

As her title implied, Riven probably shouldn't be surprised that the _Scorn of the Moon_ was anything but amicable. But then again, the way Diana was glaring daggers at her with such sheer and barely concealed hostility when she'd sat down, made Riven feel like it was personal. As a trained soldier, Riven was adept at sensing murderous intents and currently, she was definitely sensing more than just a fair bit of that from the Lunari. It was obvious in the way her shoulder muscles were all wound up tight, as though she wanted to spring up any minute now and whip out her khopesh to slice Riven in two. The notion was all very frightening. Perhaps Riven should laugh again—

"Riven," Diana's abrupt voice caused a knee-jerk reaction in the Exile. "Leona was just telling me how _wonderfully lovely_ your hair is. If I didn't know any better, I would think Leona has a _type_." Her words were meant to sound like a playful observation, but it didn't take a genius to hear the blatant sarcasm in Diana's voice.

Riven could hear it, she could.  
So it was with no small degree of perplexity that she wondered why Leona _couldn't_ hear it. The sun warrior was still in high spirits and wore a bright smile on her bronzed face.

"Diana knows me **_so_** well," Leona just about gushed. "I _do_ have a weakness for silvery, ash-blonde hair." She beamed at her girlfriend before playfully tracing a finger down Diana's right hand.

Diana flinched, as did Riven.

"You," Leona started, still looking at her girlfriend with adoration, "Ashe, Sejuani, Riven… and even… Syndra, all you women don't even know how lucky you are to possess tresses of such beautiful shade." Leona's voice dipped to a murmur as her eyes glazed over, and her face took on a slightly dreamy countenance.

"And next thing you know she'll be jumping on anyone and everyone with white hair." Diana remarked quietly under her breath, though it was not quiet enough that Riven couldn't hear. Honestly, should she even be surprised that Diana was the jealous type?

"Mmhm. Did you say something, Diana?" Leona hummed.

Riven inwardly face palmed. Leona was so utterly clueless, Riven actually felt bad for her. Like really bad.

Riven didn't like inserting herself in the affairs of others, but she was starting to wonder how the dynamic between Leona and Diana even worked.

Spending time in the presence of the two now, it was easy to see the stark differences between them. While Leona had an easy and laidback attitude when dealing with Diana, the Lunari on the other hand tend to be just a little uptight and – dare she say – _possessive_. Diana seemed too excessively aware of everything Leona did, and that contrasting with Leona's carefree attitude could only spell trouble in the long run. At least, in Riven's mind it would.

But then again, who was Riven to judge the nature of their relationship? People did say opposites attract after all and besides…  
Was Leona really always _this_ clueless, and was Diana always _so_ on guard? Or was it actually all her fault that they were both behaving like this?

Thoughts of her underhanded machinations flashed across Riven's mind, causing her to gulp heavily and sweat-drop underneath her clothes. A twinge of guilt stabbed through her heart and for a brief second, the briefest second, Riven toyed with the idea of just coming right out and telling Diana the truth there and then.

But stealing a quick glance at Diana (shit! Their eyes met for a split instance, and it felt like Riven's soul was burning), Riven's instincts told her that that would be a very, very bad idea.

Diana looked so pissed off at the moment, she was not entirely sure what the Lunari might do if she discovered that Riven had _poisoned_ her girlfriend. With a love potion, of all things. There was no doubt in Riven's mind that the moon-warrior would cleave her in half before she could even scream.

No-no, if she were to tell Diana, it would definitely be beneficial to her health if she were to catch the moon warrior in a better mood, or perhaps just forsake the face-to-face encounter altogether and write her a letter explaining things...

Moreover, the logical part of Riven reasoned that there was no guarantee the potion had even worked. There was a chance it didn't, which reminded her, she might need to speak to Syndra about that soon. For all she knew, the Dark Sovereign could have screwed her over for her own entertainment. That actually wouldn't be a farfetched notion and even then, there's no reason for Syndra to own up to it.

No, the best course of action for Riven would be to wait and see. It's still early; it's barely been a day since the potion had been administered, so unless Riven gathered some concrete evidence about the potion's prowess, maybe she wouldn't make a move just yet.

* * *

Riven breathed a sigh of relief when she finally managed to escape the dining hall. The last ten minutes had been so unbelievably tensed, especially when Leona started making offers to train Riven close quarters and be her sparring partner, claiming that Diana " _isn't exactly the physical combat type_ ".

By then, Diana was simmering so hard, it wouldn't be all that impossible for her to evaporate into a bundle of steam and fade away.

Uh-uh. Riven wasn't about to follow Leona into the grave; Leona could die alone. Taking the quaking table and Diana's scarcely subdued convulsions as a cue, Riven quickly gobbled down the rest of her food (not even bothering to chew) before hightailing out of there as fast as she could.

She silently wished Leona a good game because she knew that whatever dark fate lay in wait for the Solari once Diana got her alone, could never be overcome by the light of the sun. Poor girl. She wouldn't even know what hit her.

Riven continued making her way down the twisting hallways of the Institute, heading towards her room. She was nearly at her door when all of a sudden, she felt a forceful jerk on her right arm as someone grabbed it roughly before twisting it sharply and upwards behind her back.

"Wha—" The whole maneuver was done so quickly, Riven barely had time to react even as her assailant slammed her face first into the wall _.  
_  
Her immediate thoughts were that Diana had stalked her out in order to murder her. She hadn't exactly picked the Lunari for being the quiet assassination type, but hey, she could be wrong about things.

"Hello there, _Riven_." A voice rasped out languidly. The way the person whispered her name was low, sadistic, and meant to rub Riven in all the wrong places.

 _Oh no_. Riven's heart sank down into the bottom of the abyss. _This isn't Diana, this is way worse_. _  
_  
"Surprised?" Her assailant's voice was right beside her ear now, in such close proximity that Riven could feel hot breath tickling the fine hairs on her skin. She pushed hard against the attacker in order to break free, but all her efforts were in vain.

"Tsk tsk," Her assailant chided, "this is called an unbreakable grip for a reason, didn't they teach you that in the academy?" There was another sharp jolt of pain as her assailant increased the pressure of their hold on Riven's arms and dug their knees deep behind Riven's own.  
 _  
_"Relax. I just came to tell you, that you have been a fucking. disgusting. girl." The person holding her punctuated the last three words by slamming her body forcefully against the wall each time.

"Did you know…" The voice trailed off sinisterly as Riven felt the cool tip of a steel blade pressed delicately into the soft skin of her neck. She couldn't help but squirm in reflex even as the assailant chuckled at her fruitless attempts. "…that I absolutely _hate_ germs?"

 _What?_ Riven did not know that, she didn't.

"Ever since you covered me this morning with your _fucking disgusting mucus_ , all I could think about was ways to hurt you so bad."

It was true. Just thinking back on this morning made Katarina's blood boil. That Solari had some nerves challenging her, and under normal circumstances Katarina would have bashed her stupid face in, but all she could think about at that time was how Riven's germs were _multiplying_ and _crawling_ and _multiplying again_ all over her skin. All over her skin. The thought was just so utterly disgusting and nauseating that Katarina… _couldn't_. She couldn't.  
And Riven was going to have to pay for that.

"You see, I've showered four times since this morning now, and still I don't feel clean." Katarina growled. "Maybe your blood will be more effective than my soap?" The Sinister Blade was practically panting in Riven's ears as she said this; it was all very new and bizarre. Maybe the intent was to intimidate, but with all the low growls and moans Katarina was making, she sounded like she wanted to torture Riven one second and have sex with her in the next. Honestly that was _what_ she sounded like to Riven.

"What do you think?" The redhead let the question hang in the air as she trailed her sharpened blade across a particularly sensitive part of Riven's neck, causing the Exile to bite back a cry.

A thin trail of blood trickled out of the fine wound and Riven almost didn't register the pain, didn't even know her skin had been broken until she felt something moist closed over it, eliciting a sudden tangy sensation.  
 _  
Did she just lick me?! Wait. Doesn't she hate germs?!  
_  
Behind her, Katarina snickered softly as her blade shifted to Riven's cheek, gently tracing down the length of it before applying more force and digging in, finely slicing open soft flesh and—

"What's going on here?" A frosty voice sounded some ways down the corridors as light footsteps approached their location. Riven couldn't see who it was, but the voice sounded very familiar.

"Help." Riven managed to choke out, even as her lungs were getting squeezed out by the weight of Katarina's body. "This psycho-bitch is after me."

The footsteps were much closer now, coming to a stop about ten paces away.

It could be Riven's imagination but she felt Katarina shrink back ever so slightly in the presence of the newcomer, placing a slight distance between Riven's body and hers.

"What are you doing _Katarina_?" There's the voice again. There was a slight edge to it, something Riven couldn't quite place.

"Are you— don't you know that such actions are against the rules of the League? I could have you reported and punished severely." The words that came out from the newcomer were disapproving, yet for some reason the tone sounded anything but. In any case, they only sounded surprised, which was weird because Katarina threatening other champions with bodily harm was nothing to be shocked about.

Riven could sense the deliberation in the assassin's body as she paused for a second, seemingly unsure of what to do next. This was an odd thing in itself since the assassin prided herself in never hesitating. Eventually though, she unhanded Riven, grudgingly springing back a few steps.

"Count yourself lucky this time bitch." She hissed in Riven's ear.

With the pressure lifted, Riven scrambled to put more distance between her and the assassin.

As she rubbed her shoulders to ease the dull throbbing ache, she turned to thank the person who had appeared so timely. She was only mildly surprised to find the Frost Archer standing there; Ashe's voice held a unique quality that Riven was able to place after awhile. Her surprise had more to do with what Ashe was doing wandering around these parts. As far as Riven knew, the Frost Archer had no reason to be here unless she was seeking out the company of champions who were either unaffiliated, Zaunite or Noxian, housed in this west wing. The Freljord suites were all the way over at the north wing.

Despite her curiosity, Riven kept her thoughts to yourself.

"Thank you." She said, her voice slightly hoarse.

The frost archer nodded her head in response as she looked Riven over, her eyes hinting at a glint of something.

"No problem." For a brief moment, Ashe looked as though she wanted to say something more. But the moment passed and she didn't, so Riven turned her attention to Katarina.

The two eyed each other menacingly, their bodies coiled and ready to spring, both slowly circling the other in their mind.

It was Ashe who broke the tension. Clearing her throat delicately, the Frost Archer spoke up: "Riven, whatever you two were up to— let me talk to Katarina."

"She tried to kill me." Riven bit out.

Katarina rolled her eyes. "Kill? Please, that wasn't even a scratch. What you did to me was way worse."

Ashe arched an eyebrow.

"I'm sure no one wants a fight breaking out here." She reasoned. "Repercussions from the League would be anything but convenient."

Ashe did have a point.

Besides, Riven was finding it hard to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of her mind that wondered if the potion had anything to do with the assassin's actions. Maybe this was what attention from the assassin felt like. Maybe attention from Katarina falls under the sadistic knife-play category. Maybe attention from the assassin means death.

"I'll talk to her." Ashe was saying again, her eyes flickering over to Riven before continuing. "I'll make sure she gets reacquainted with the rules on proper conduct in the Institute."

"Who made you hall monitor now." Katarina grumbled in protest, though there was no real fight in it because currently, she looked about as guilty as a cat caught with her paw in the cookie jar and she was being strangely evasive about meeting the Frost Archer's eyes too.

Ashe glanced back at Riven in a way that seemed like she wanted the Exile to leave.

It was strange how the Frost Archer was inserting herself in an issue that did not even concern her in the first place. But then again, Ashe had always been known for being a pacifist and Riven was pretty sure the Avarosan knew what she was doing.

Getting into a fight with Katarina did rank pretty low on her to-do list and Riven had better things to worry about, like chasing after Ir—no, like training and honing her skills so she wouldn't be caught off-guard again because what happened earlier was pretty embarrassing.

Glaring hard at Katarina once more, Riven made her choice.

"Fine," she ground out, "talk to her, but if she comes near me again, the Institute's getting wind of it."

Turning away, Riven left the two alone in the corridor and headed back to her room so she could pick up her training equipment and go hack something to vent her pent up frustration at this annoyingly long day.


	4. Chapter 4

Some would like to believe otherwise, but despite her name, Riven was still very much a Noxian through and through. And the thing about Noxians was, they did not mope. No. They did not twiddle their thumbs when they wanted something, not really. When Noxians wanted, they went out, they claimed.

Previously, Riven's method of seduction was very much un-Noxian. But she had blamed Irelia being _Ionian_ as a factor that threw her off her game. She had no idea how to seduce an Ionian, not when she was so used to the Noxian ways.

For the most part, the Noxian seduction dance was simple; it was clinical, it was effective. You liked someone? You'd show up, you'd show your face. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Shit gets done.

But Ionians? Ionians had weird practices and stuff when it came to these things. And during Riven's time in Ionia, she had become acquainted with some of these very unorthodox, very un-Noxian customs.

For example, an Ionian in love would write poems or short proses to convey their deepest affections. Riven had read some of them before. Usually they were abstract and used words borrowed heavily from nature like, flowers, blooming, pollination, etc, to allude to feelings of adoration or mating. Riven didn't get it. She didn't.

An Ionian in love, would invite their beloved out to a teahouse where they would share in delightful, but polite conversation over a small cup of simmering tea.

An Ionian in love would buy a bonsai—this odd looking plant that was not quite a tree, not even a flower—trim it, and then give to their beloved to display on a desk or place on some wooden mantel or something to grow and admire.

An Ionian in love—sounded very much like someone Riven hoped to never meet. But that didn't make sense, because Irelia was Ionian. And thinking of Irelia sitting at her table, pencil in hand, writing out a sweet love poem; thinking of Irelia blushing and handing her a small potted _bonsai_ to place on her shelf, caused a small cloud of warmth to surge through the Exile's chest.

So, it was for Irelia's sake when Riven, with some admirable resolve, sat her ass down behind her desk, quill gripped tight in white-knuckled hand, taking cues from this book called "101 Ionian Love Passages". And the first few lines that came flowing through the ink, went a little something like this:

 _"Oh, Irelia,  
Your name is like a song I long to sing.  
Your body is like a temple  
At which multiple Ionian monks  
Would fall to their knees  
In fervor to pray at and worship.  
_ _If lips could grow on trees,  
_ _Yours would be blooming on an Ionian leaf.  
_ _It, like your moving mouth part,  
_ _Is dainty, perfect, and sways in the breeze  
_ _Like how you sway in my heart."_

The effort it took to churn out that passage was so severe, Riven had to call in sick at the Institute the next day to stay in bed and nurse. It wasn't until the sun had fully disappeared over the broad horizons, and the moon had risen clear across the skies that she managed to regain her full strength.

But alas, her exertion had been all for naught. When she'd shown the poem to Sona over lunch, the girl had promptly shook her head, twanged out a few screechy notes on her etwahl, and implored Riven _not_ to send it.

Well, that was discouraging.

So then, she thought about cordially inviting Irelia out to a teahouse for lunch. Sona had recommended a few located near the Institute—the blue-haired girl had been surprisingly supportive ever since she found out about Riven's major Irelia crush—but when Riven went to survey their lunch menu, she found that none of the places even served any form of meat, or substantial food for that matter.

All they had was tea. Just endless tea.

And the worst part was, you had to brew them yourself, from _actual tea leaves_ , and Riven didn't know how. Moreover, most of these teahouses didn't even have chairs or proper tables. No furniture of any sort like the ones they had back in Noxus. There was no way she could bring Irelia to someplace like that, not when there was an eighty-seven percent chance she would make a fool of herself.

Perhaps the Ionian way wasn't for Riven then. And the twiddling thumbs, dropping hints way didn't work either. Neither did the Syndra love potion way, which had failed most terribly.

Maybe, just _maybe_ , it was time to bring out the Noxian method.

 _Yes_ , Riven reasoned. Every other way had foundered. Besides, a part of her had frankly had enough of shuffling feet. If she wanted Irelia, it seemed the only solution left was to be Noxian about it, and claim her.

And so it was at midnight, that Riven found herself standing outside the Ionian's door, mustering all the self-righteous Noxian cockiness she could summon from the very depths of her being. It took a full minute, considering how rusty she had gotten at this. But now wasn't the time for self-doubt. Noxians did not doubt, did not hesitate.

With one hand cocked arrogantly at her hips and chest-thrusting out, Riven brought her other hand up in five sharp raps on the door and waited.

She waited.

No reply.

Frowning, she knocked again.

Still, no one came to the door.

This was weird. Was Irelia not at home? It was just slightly past midnight, where else could she be?

Frustration creeping in, Riven pounded, much harder this time, until the door started rattling in its frame.

She heard a loud groan coming from inside the room, then a heavy thud; sounding very much like someone painfully dragging themselves across the floor. Seconds later, the door opened and Irelia—in full pajama-ed glory—stood before her, hair tousled, ghost of sleep still written all over her face.

Her eyes—very red, very bloodshot—widened when she saw Riven standing there postured like some puffed up peacock. Reflexively, the Exile gulped as she spied Irelia's mouth starting to contort in some semblance of disbelief; face screwing into an expression that Riven could only describe as _unpleasant_. Perhaps this was not quite such a good idea after all.

Nevertheless, the Noxian part of her urged her to see the deed through. A Noxian would never give up in vain.

Brushing past Irelia, who was honestly too shocked and confused to blockade, Riven strutted confidently into the room as per her Noxian birthright. The layout of the space was not dissimilar to hers, although it was decorated with a distinct Ionian flair. There was an Ionian banner hung low from a wooden beam, and at sporadic intervals along the perimeter of the suite, red candles were alit.

Irelia was still frozen by the door, shoulders scrunched up to her ears, and Riven was beginning to wonder if the girl was alright.

"Wha—what are you doing?" Her voice was quivering when she'd finally managed.

At the question, Riven faltered a little.

"I—" She started.

"Am here." She finished.

Irelia rubbed her eyes, as though with the act, Riven might magically disappear. But no, when she opened them again, Riven was still there, which meant this wasn't some fucked up dream at least. Because hell, why would Irelia be dreaming about Riven.

"What are you doing?" The dark-haired woman repeated, sounding more awake, more menacing this time.

Slowly she closed the door behind her.

"Do you know what time it is," The words came out a growl. "Did you know I was asleep," A low, choking rumble from deep within the Ionian's throat.

Riven blanched. Was this the way it was supposed to go? All her Noxian encounters had been different from this.

"I—no, I… didn't know…I just…I'd thought, always thought—"

Irelia was steadily advancing on her now.

"—thought you were dead."

The room was all shades and shadows cast by candlelight, and Riven couldn't see Irelia's face.

"I mean no… not _dead_. But, you were _alive_ and then…" Riven stuttered, she stuttered bad. "And then you weren't. And then you were… Corpse! I mean that's it—I meant corpse, you are a lich, so then…"

When Irelia pounced, Riven didn't see it coming. It was too fast. Somebody screamed. She thought it might have been her. But then, it could have also been Irelia.

She felt the back of her head hit the ground hard as Irelia tackled her to the hardwood floor and pinned her there. In a flash of silver, the Ionian's blade had flown from its stand across the room and was now angled over Riven's neck like a pair of scissors.

" _Dead_ , huh," The Ionian breathed. " _Corpse_ , you say. Would you care to join me then? I can have your neck snapped off right now, and that'll make the two of us."

The sharpened edges were just a hair's breadth away from Riven's skin. The Ionian's chest was heaving; she looked crazed (sleep deprival?), she might actually do it.

Riven's mind raced. Her fingers fumbled. They reached, landed on something poking out from inside her pockets.

"W-wait!" She rasped, just as the blade made a hairline cut in tender flesh. "D-don't. I just, I came to give you this."

Irelia's eyes narrowed as Riven shakily raised her right hand, piece of crumpled parchment tucked between index and third finger.

Without a word, the Ionian snatched it from her, eyes skimming through the scrawl of text. Riven couldn't tell what was going through the Ionian's mind. But seconds later, the steely pressure lifted from her neck.

Irelia stood up. Her blade hovered dangerously behind.

"Get out." She said.

Riven fled.

* * *

The following day passed by in a blur.

At first light, mere hours after Riven had stumbled dejectedly back to her own chambers, she'd found herself rudely awoken by a morning summons to the rift. Tepidly, she'd trawled through the match, which ended—rather disastrously, in Riven's opinion—only to be followed by two more with scarcely a break in between. And thus flew by the light of day. By the time Riven dragged herself back to her abode, she was beyond exhausted, fatigue seeping deep through her bones.

Which was why she wasn't much in good cheer when it came to entertaining unexpected houseguests.

Upon her return, she'd found the Frost Archer leaning against the wooden frame of her door; svelte physique standing in between her and some much-needed sleep. From the look of boredom drawn across her features, Riven surmised the woman had been waiting a spell.

"Can I help you?" She made a point to punctuate the question with a long sigh, hoping her regal guest would get the hint and shoo off. She wasn't in the mood for conversation.

But it seemed the Frost Archer wasn't quite one for picking up hints. Being a monarch and all, Ashe must be rather unaccustomed to being denied.

"Riven," her eyes lit up when she spied the Exile's approach. "I've been waiting to talk to you."

The Avarosan seeking her out was rare beyond rare, and Riven could pretty much venture a guess regarding the topic of conversation.

"Is this about Katarina?"

Ashe nodded.

And Riven decided that the woman might just be taking her pacification role a little too seriously. She had been hearing perturbing tales concerning the Frost Archer's radical methods when it came to enforcing her harmonious notions. Apparently—and this Riven had heard from Sona, who'd heard from Lux, who'd heard from Caitlyn herself—Ashe had once staged an intervention in a bid to reconcile Vi and Jinx. The meeting had started off splendidly with cupcakes and kumbaya, but ended in a literal blast of flames, destruction, and a week-long vacay at the Starchild's.

Now, Riven was starting to wonder if Ashe was going to try and convince her to make good with Katarina, all whilst they sit holding hands in the middle of a friendship circle drawn in yellow chalk.

 _Oh no. She is going to try the friendship circle, isn't she?_ Riven thought miserably. Ashe had tried it just last week with Sivir and Cassiopeia. She had also tried it the week before with Vayne and Warwick.

 _Fuck. Best to get this talk over and done with._  
 _  
_"Alright," Riven exhaled, calloused fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "My room is a little messy so, I hope you will bear with—"

The Frost Archer cut her off midway, "Actually, I was hoping we could have our talk somewhere else."

Riven's heart sank a little deeper inside her bosom. She wondered what the Frost Archer had up her sleeves as the woman turned gracefully on her heels, beckoning for the Exile to follow. And Riven had followed—mutedly, she'd trudged through the meandering corridors and the twisting hallways of the Institute, until they'd arrived at— _the Noxian wing?_

Or more specifically, a particular room located in the Noxian wing.

For some reason, Ashe had managed to obtain the key to one of the Noxian suites. Deftly unlocking the door, she gestured for Riven to enter. The air in the room smelt vaguely familiar—it reminded Riven of the clash of steel and rust with a dash of musk swirled in. And when Ashe turned the lights on, did Riven, with a sinking feeling in her gut, realize where they were.

Blades, all sorts of blades in every shape and size imaginable, hung from the walls of the room painted a shade of burnt sienna. There was hardly a patch of free space larger than two by two square feet not occupied by a blade of some kind. And apart from the obsessive multitude of sharp knives lining the walls, the other distinct feature of the room was that it was markedly Noxian in its décor. So marked, so Noxian, it would have brought Riven's patriotism, back when she was the poster child of Noxus, to shame.

 _Is that a grand portrait of Marcus Du Coteau hanging above the four-poster bed?_

Riven didn't know which was stranger—that, or the one corner of the room unironically entitled "Inspirational Corner" in blood red lettering across.

'Never play fair _.'_ Read one of the inspirational quotes tacked up on the space, framed in smiley faces and hand-drawn knives.

'Violence solves everything _.'_ Said another, captioned beneath a majestic picture of a wolf chasing a poro through an icy marsh.

"Um," Riven blinked, not entirely sure of what to say.

They were in Katarina's room, that much was certain. It was strangely neater and more organized than how Riven would have imagined it and— _oh god,_ were those cacti (cacti!) planted in small adorable steel pots, standing under the sunlight on the windowsill?

"Those are Katarina's favorite plants." Ashe murmured when she noticed Riven staring at them. "Rather like her to favor a plant so full of thorns, don't you think?"

 _More like full of pricks._

The Frost Archer strolled towards the windows then, body bending over to pick up a small watering can from the ground. Gingerly, she tested its weight before tipping it over to water the rows of budding cacti.

This was almost surreal. Riven pinched herself. She was in Katarina's room with the Freljord Queen, who was currently watering Katarina's plants.

"Well, why don't you make yourself at home." Ashe said as she turned around to see Riven still standing awkwardly by the door. Nodding her head towards the bed, she gestured for the Exile to take a seat.

Riven was more than a little flummoxed at this point, but her feet dragged to comply. Hesitantly, she ducked beneath a low hanging banner that stretched across the ceiling with the words: "Blood for Noxus!" as she inched towards the bed.

She was pretty sure her presence in Katarina's room would be more than enough to warrant death. And Katarina hated germs, or so she'd said. The redhead might not be here right now, but if she found out that Riven had sat on her bed, unwashed, un-bathed, after three consecutive plays at the rift, well…

"Please, sit." Ashe placed the watering can back on the ground, indicating to the bed once more.

Reluctantly, Riven lowered herself down on the edge.

Question. How did Ashe come to have access to the Sinister Blade's room? Also, why was she sauntering around like she owned the place?

Pulling a chair out from the writing table at the far end of the room, Ashe moved to position it directly in front of Riven, sitting down such that they were now face-to-face in a manner not unlike an interrogation.

Riven felt the muscles in her body tensing.

"Ashe," She began tentatively, eyes rising to meet the unrelenting blue of the Frost Archer's orbs. "What is this about?"

The woman steepled her long, elegant fingers on her lap before leaning forward slightly. "Riven," She said. "You have a blunt disposition, so I won't beat about the bush with you. I know you and Katarina have a history."

 _Huh?_ Riven's brows knitted. _What is she talking about?_

"A romantic history." Ashe clarified.

 _What? No, we don't_.

Riven had heard the rumors floating about regarding her and Katarina, but never did she think people were actually clueless enough to buy into them. Uh. Just because they were both Noxians, both adept with a blade, both comparatively attractive females inducted into the League—did not mean they automatically had a relationship.

To Riven, the idea was almost laughable.

She didn't even know Katarina batted for the same team.

 _Does she bat for the same team?_ Riven wondered. _Isn't she with that, y'know,_ that _guy?_

Besides, why would Riven go for an emotionally stunted blade b*tch when there were so many other eligible females in Noxian military? Katarina was attractive, sure, but not enough that Riven would put up with the thousand tonnes emotional baggage that came boxed with the assassin. Not to mention, Katarina was High Command, Riven was a foot soldier back in the day. Their assignments took them to vastly different places and they hardly had many chances to interact. Honestly, Riven didn't know how all those relationship rumors sparked.

But Ashe was already droning on.

"It's ok, Riven. It really is. It's the same for me and Sejuani too."

 _Sejuani? Why is she in the picture?_

"When Katarina and I first started—"

 _What? Started as in…_

"—we both knew what we were getting into. Honestly, we are both adults who just want to have a good time when things become stressful—"

 _Ashe. Katarina? Good time?_

Seemingly unaware of the horror splashed across the Exile's rapidly paling face, Ashe continued going into details. _Details_.

A mental image flashed by in Riven's mind. It proved too much.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Riven started chanting in her head— _lalalalalalala—_ hoping she could drown out Ashe's clear and frigid voice. Hoping she could drown out the image of Ashe with Katarina, having good times.

 _Oh no, no no_. It was a bad pairing. Ashe must be into some deep kink to put up with Katarina. Freljord Queen Ashe. Pure as frost Ashe. What wrong turn did she take, what good decision did she _not_ make to end up in Katarina's leather studded arms of blood and pain?

"—and it was an inevitable pull, the way we fit so well together; so slick, so centered. I don't think I've ever felt more alive than when—"

 _Lalalalalalalala._

Riven's mouth parted in dismay as she discreetly pressed her palms against her ears.

 _Please, make it stop, Ashe. Make it stop._

"—and when Katarina found out about my thoughts on monogamy, she was supportive. And she—well, not really _encouraged_ , but still… she didn't push me away when I told her about my unbridled urges towards the Winter's Wrath—"

 _Winter—? She is talking about Sejuani?"_

Oh hell no. Riven was so not picturing that. Not picturing the boar-rider riding something else.

"—and not only did she not push me away, she was willing to try. With me. With me and Sejuani. Physically, together—"

Riven felt a dull burning sensation in her stomach as it churned.

 _Does Ashe have a predilection for violent, sadistic characters? Does she?_

"—and for all the wondrous gifts Kat has given me, I am grateful. Being a Queen, Riven, you must understand, it is a lonely road. And even a sovereign, for all their power, can get so lonely, so bogged down by feverish needs—"

 _Lalalalalalalalalala_.

Riven didn't hear anything. Didn't hear anything about Ashe's feverish needs. Were those birds chirping outside the windows? Must be. Did Katarina's beloved cacti just wilt a little? Could be.

"—I guess what I'm trying to say is, Riven, I just want Katarina to be happy." With that Ashe concluded her long, arduous monologue.

 _Really? Was she trying to say that?_ Riven must have missed the point.

Hands still steepled on her lap, Ashe stared at Riven. Riven stared back at her. Riven blinked, and Ashe stood up then with all the grace and fluidity of water.

Pushing back her chair, she relocated herself next to Riven on the bed. The Exile couldn't help but fidget as the archer sat down close. So close, their knees were lightly touching; so close, Riven could smell the lingering scent of wintersweet clinging to the fabric of the woman's clothes. Taking both of Riven's hands in hers, Ashe leaned in closer to whisper in Riven's ear, hot breath tickling against the outer shell.

"I want to make Katarina happy, to give back what she has blessed me with. And more, besides." Gently, Ashe reached out her right hand to brush a loose strand from Riven's face.

"Would you want that? I've seen the way she looks at you," Ashe's voice was a murmur. "Would you want to make Katarina happy together? Riven..." her voice wandered off, as did her left hand, finding itself a spot on the Exile's right cheek.

 _Cold_ , Riven is thinking. _The Frost Archer's hands are cold_. But not in a way that was unpleasant. No, this was hardly unpleasant at all.

Ashe was totally misunderstanding the situation, totally reading it wrong. The only way Katarina had looked at her was with eyes like blood-red murder, and the rational part of Riven was telling her that she should set the Freljordian straight. There was nothing going on between her and Katarina, and doing this—whatever Ashe was doing—would be wrong. Especially with the stern, disapproving face of Marcus Du Coteau peering down at them.

But there was another part of Riven, a part fuelled by the spreading warmth originating from the base of her stomach, telling her that a gorgeous woman was touching her in all the most agreeable ways, and she would do well to shut the fuck up and just let things roll.

 _Let things roll_.

Ashe leaned forward. Riven didn't, but she didn't pull back either. The Freljord Queen's eyes were closed; Riven's were half-lidded. Their noses were touching, their lips nearly brushing; so immersed they were in the moment, they didn't notice the door of the room creaking open.

The door had creaked open silently, but it now slammed shut with a bang.

Startled, Riven looked up, and for a second—a whole second—her heart stopped.

For Katarina was standing by the door, hands shaking; trembling. She looked pissed.

 _Oh fuck._

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry for the late update, thank you to all those who've read the story thus far as well as those who've commented.


End file.
